Mosaic of an Assassin
by HarlequinDreams
Summary: A series of snapshots in the life of Talia Ducard. For the community 50scenes on Livejournal.
1. First Sight

_A Glimpse_

**Summary- **Henri Ducard and Bruce Wayne prepare for Wayne's final test before he can become a member of the League of Shadows.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the character. I merely dabble in the world.

This story is part of the livejournal community "50scenes." I _will_ address Ducard's remarks about his wife's death in later scenes. I am not choosing to ignore that part of the movie.

* * *

The women worked silently, efficiently. Henri Ducard took the attention easily, allowing the Chinese woman tie the straps of his armor without moving in the slightest except for once when he couldn't help but silently chuckle. The woman tending to him, so unused to any disturbance, looked up. Discreetly, Ducard nodded toward his favored protégé. The woman glanced over as secretly as she could manage.

Bruce Wayne, ready for his final test, fidgeted slightly as another woman tended to him. While Ducard was almost ready to begin, the younger man still had to have his armor put on over the shinobi shōzoku common of those training in the Mongolian fortress of the League of Shadows.

"I can do that—" he began, but the woman, much younger than her counterpart assisting Ducard, ignored him.

She held up the chest armor, and he reluctantly raised one arm. Once his arm was through the hole for it, the young woman secured it to his chest. She did not touch him, did not even look at him. Her eyes remained on the leather straps, her fingers expertly knotting them together. Every so often, she tried to move the armor to test how firmly the bonds held. When she was satisfied, she took a step back and bowed her head further.

"Thank you," Bruce offered. He stared, not sure if he should be offended when the women left the room without a word.

"Come." Ducard's command could not be ignored. He turned and walked toward another door. Bruce began to follow but paused for a moment. He glanced back.

In the shadows where the women had vanished, he saw the younger of the two still standing there. Her gray-blue eyes stared at Bruce through the darkness, almost curious.

"Are you coming?" Ducard asked.

Bruce started, glancing in the direction of the voice. When he looked back, the girl was gone. He shook his head and joined his mentor, ready for his final test.

From her hiding place in the shadows of the room, the girl watched him go. She was due to leave for the Congo in a few hours, but she would learn whether or not that young man succeeded. No other protégé of Henri Ducard had made it even this far.

It would be some time before she saw him again, Talia Ducard knew that much, but the image of Bruce Wayne, dressed in the armor of the League of Shadows, was forever imprinted on her mind.


	2. A Fundamental Lesson

_A Fundamental Lesson_

**Summary- **Henri Ducard trains a young Talia in the ways of the League of Shadows.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the characters. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

Henri Ducard surveyed his daughter. She was so small. At another time—in another life—he might have spoiled her terribly. She'd have had mountains of toys, rows of clothes, and she'd have spent every day playing in the French countryside. If Madeleine had given him this daughter—

Ducard mentally shook himself as the ancient wound to his heart stung. Talia had been born too late for that. He'd seen how cruel the world could be. He promised himself it would not claim his daughter as it had his first wife.

"Again," he said.

The seven-year-old looked at him. "But I'm tired."

Ducard frowned. "Talia."

His daughter needed no more warning. She took up her staff an scurried back to a platform. She took up her staff and scurried back to a platform. Ducard climbed the ladder to the opposite end. Between them was an arrangement of logs, providing many small surfaces to stand on. Once Talia had her footing on one—she was still too small to straddle the distance between two—Ducard took his stance.

He hid a smile. Talia's serious expression looked out of place on her childish face. She darted from log to log to avoid his strikes. Ducard admired her speed and accuracy, but he saw her tells, knew every move she was going to make before she made it. When Talia pivoted on a log at the perimeter, her father saw his opening. Ducard ruthlessly thrust his staff forward. It caught his daughter square in the breastbone and jolted her back. She wasn't able to regain her balance and fell. The girl twisted to better take the fall, landing on her arm and knee.

After recovering from the shock, Talia began to wail. Ducard jumped down and looked at her. "Talia."

"It hurts," she whined.

"Get up."

"Daddy!"

"Henri," a woman said. She emerged from the shadows.

Ducard allowed himself a brief, small smile. Lian was a beautiful woman. Eight years with her only made him more sure of her worth. Her features were always gentle, but she rarely smiled. She laughed even less often, not like his Madeleine.

Lian began to reach for her daughter, but Ducard frowned. She saw him. "Henri."

"Is your leg broken?" Ducard asked Talia.

"No," the girl admitted between sobs.

Ducard nodded. "She must learn to pick herself up," he told his wife.

Talia forced herself to her feet and winced as she put pressure on her leg. After she took a few steps, her mother lifted the girl into her arms. Lian gave her husband a look. When he nodded, she carried Talia out of the room, humming a Chinese lullaby to calm and comfort the child.


	3. Simply Business

_Simply Business_

**Summary-** Talia Ducard does what she does best.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of Batman Begins and The Dark Knight belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the characters. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

Anthony Morgan poured two glasses of wine. He handed one to his lady companion and raised his glass to her. Meekly, she raised her glass in return. As she drank, Anthony admired what would be his newest conquest.

A rare treat, he felt. A mild, innocent Chinese woman. Her wrists and neck smelled of spices from the Orient. She'd blushed when he'd touched her hand, whispered discreet indecencies into her ear. He could still feel her hand tremble in his when he'd begged her to accompany him back to his room. 'You make me feel young again,' he'd whispered. 'I haven't felt this way in a long time.' She'd believed him, drank in every word. So young, he noted. At her oldest, she was twenty. A mere child compared to his forty-seven, but he liked them young. Legal, of course, but young. Young and lean, innocent and desperate to please. He smiled to himself as he wondered how long he'd keep this one. They did get so boring so quickly. The last one… How long had she lasted? A week? Another pretty Oriental girl but not as eager as he liked.

He traced her jaw with his hand as his eyes roamed over the firm curves her deep blue cheongsam accented. Her lips parted, and he bent down to kiss them. She tangled her hand in his hair, silently begging him not to pull away. He did just that, leaving her wanting more. He knew that look. "Is the wine to your liking, Talia?"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Morgan," she cooed, the Chinese accent rendering her almost incomprehensible. But he liked them that way. Easier to tune out.

Anthony set down his wine glass and went to the stereo system in the room. He carefully selected a piece of classical music. Gentle words, sweet touches, floating music, and a bit of wine were all he needed. This girl would be sprawled beneath him before an hour was out—before half an hour was out if he played his cards right.

"Vivaldi?" Talia asked, tilting her head and staring at him with adoring eyes when he returned to her.

He chuckled, surprised at her knowledge. "I find it very romantic, don't you?"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Morgan," she replied. She smiled at him and raised her glass. He almost laughed, sure of what the girl was up to. She'd finally figured out the game and was going to play hard to get just a little longer.

Anthony took up his glass and raised it to her. He took a sip. Only after he swallowed did he taste something strange. He choked, dropping his glass. It shattered on the glass, the red wine flooding the white carpet. As he clutched his throat, he stared at the seated young woman.

Everything about her had changed. Her posture had straightened, and she looked at him with an expression darker than anything he'd ever seen. Her sweet features twisted into a vicious smirk. "Parliament," she murmured in perfect English, "has no place for a libertine, sinking further and further into depravity."

Anthony fell to his knees, still trying to breathe.

Talia went to the door of his suite. Just outside a man waited. Anthony could have cried for joy. Marco Ragetti, one of his bodyguards, stood there. As his vision darkened, Anthony saw Marco nod to Talia.

He heard her voice one last time. "Two hours will do, Mr. Ragetti."

Three hours later, as a ship's whistle blew to signal its departure, Talia Ducard wondered if the church bells she heard were to announce the death of a member of Parliament. Or were they merely sounding the time?


	4. Letters from Home

_Letters from Home_

**Summary- **Between assignments, Talia reads a letter from her father.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the characters. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

'My dearest Talia,'

The woman settled into her seat as the train began its departure from Nice. She tried not to consider that her father only expressed affection toward her in his letters. It was just his way. At twenty-six, Talia Ducard knew what to expect from the man.

'I hope all went well in France. I'm sure it did. You were the best agent for the task, and I know you will not disappoint me or the League.'

France had been lovely, Talia mused. Her task had been simple, and an aristocrat was dead. His family was ruined by his apparent suicide. A factory girl, one of thousands of workers exploited in so many ways by father and son, claimed the young man was the father of the child she was expecting. Laughing, he'd thrown her out of his home. After a change of heart, the story making its rounds in the rumor mill said, he took poison.

With his death, the floodgates burst open. Every wrong committed by the family would be revealed and answered for.

'The task in Geneva should not prove difficult. I need not remind you that discretion is of the utmost importance.'

Talia read through her father's reminders about her newest assignment. A self-righteous religious leader was ready to step into the political realm. Death would make a martyr of him. Scandal would ruin him.

'I look forward to your return. Our young Mister Wayne improves daily.'

Talia shifted. She focused even more on the letter. It amused her to think of her father calling Bruce Wayne young. He was older than she was, though not by much.

'Even you will be impressed by his skill. He is strong, and his anger lends him more strength still. I believe I have taught him to harness and focus his anger properly. It is not longer blind rage but cold drive.'

She closed her eyes briefly and tried to picture Bruce Wayne. Her father had called him handsome in one letter. Talia abandoned her fantasy to continue reading.

'He will be captivated by you, I'm sure of it. I request you return before his final task to prove his worth. I will not introduce you, but it would afford you the opportunity to see him for yourself. When we return from Gotham, you will be properly introduced, and we will begin the preparations for the wedding.'

Talia smiled to herself at the thought. She would marry Bruce Wayne, as her father wanted, and the day would come when her husband would be Ra's Al Ghul. Then her son would succeed her husband. Her daughter would serve in the League. Together, she and Bruce Wayne would continue the legacy of the League of Shadows.

'Be well, my child.'


	5. Homecoming

_Homecoming_

**Summary- **Talia returns to the Mongolian fortress after completing an assignment in the Congo.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the characters. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

The mountain air stung her throat, and her fur coat couldn't keep out the chill. The thick, heavy snow made the trek long and slightly perilous. Too bad a misstep, especially onto a patch of ice, could end at the bottom of a cliff. Falling snow, whipped about by harsh wind, virtually eliminated visibility. Despite the conditions, Talia Ducard only gained confidence with every step. She was almost home.

The storm worsened, and she knelt in the show to wait it out.

Her mother would be waiting. She'd assist Talia with her coat as they exchanged greetings. While Talia's servants drew their mistress a steaming bath to revive her frozen limbs, her mother would update her. She would tell her eager daughter how her intended had proved himself during the initiation. Talia would learn later from her father what criminal had been chosen for Mister Wayne to bring to justice. Talia thought she remember a farmer mentioned once.

The snow ceased to fall, and the wind settled slightly. Every muscle in her body protested, but Talia forced herself to her feet. She persuaded her aching frame to continue with promises of hot water and warm, sweet-smelling oils that both cleansed and revitalized. Talia reminded herself that she didn't have much further to go.

When she could see her home, Talia forgot how cold she was.

The fortress was gone. Beams still stood, along with a partial wall here and there. In a few places, the remains of a roof extended.

Talia stepped through the wreckage. She tried to figure out when this could have happened—what could have happened. She'd only been in the Congo for six months. Carefully, she mounted a slick, raised piece of rock used as walkway and followed it around. Not more than fifty feet from the ruined stronghold, Talia found proof she wasn't the first here since the destruction. Over a hundred stones peeked out from the snow, markers of half-hidden graves.

She stayed only a moment to bow her head in respect for the dead. With that done, she began her descent back to the village.

What had destroyed her home? Had her father been killed? Bruce Wayne? Or were they away, wiping the cesspool that Gotham had become off the map, when it had happened? Were her servants dead? Her mother? What was she supposed to do? Where should she go? Did she have a new assignment? Should she seek refuge in another League stronghold? Was the passage to the Lazarus Pit and graves of Ra's Al Ghul secure?

For once, Talia was caught off guard. A gentle hand touched her arm. Lost in thought, she'd come down the mountain quickly. The withered old man squeezed her arm through her coat.

"Come with me, child," he said in his native language. Too aware of her own lack of a better idea, Talia complied.

The man led her into a hut. Inside, a fire blazed. An ancient woman pressed a bowl of soup into Talia's hands, and the younger woman held it but did not taste it. Talia sat by the fire at the man's urging, and she watched the flames dance.

Fire. The realization offered no comfort, but it explained the blackened wood. Her home—and those inside it—had burned.

The man said something, and Talia was pulled away from her thoughts. In his language, she asked him to repeat himself.

"Before he left," the man said, "he left this."

Talia looked at what he offered her. She let out a breath she hadn't meant to hold and finally felt the fire warming her. In the man's hand, offered to her, was an envelope. It bore her first name—written in her father's handwriting.


	6. Preparation

_Preparation_

**Summary- **Talia Ducard unpacks for what could be her most important task.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the characters. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

"Here you are, madam," the bellhop said politely. "Executive suite three." He unlocked the door and showed her in. Her luggage was already in the living room, and the employee handed over her personal bad and key.

The woman placed two hundred-dollar bills in his hand. "Thank you, sir."

He left, suitably impressed, and Talia set her bag and key on the couch.

She pushed the trolley with her hung outfits and other suitcases to rest between the bedroom and bathroom doors. The Gotham Plaza hotel offered an unpacking service, but Talia had been very clear in her reservation that she did not want it.

Talia placed all of her hanging outfits in the bedroom closet. Next, she opened her first suitcase. The pairs of shows, ranging from evening wear to casual to practical, joined the outfits in the closet. In the next suitcase were items of a more personal nature. Talia unpacked her silk robes first and carried them into the bathroom. She hung them on the back of the door. She dug into the suitcase until she retrieved her shinobi shōzoku. She placed the carefully folded garment in a dresser drawer before the setting the undergarments she had brought on stop of it. She opened her final suitcase. She placed the array of hairpins, each sharpened to a lethal point, on her dresser. She put her perfumes near them. Talia set her bottles of oil, some for her skin and some for her hair, in the bathroom. Her toothbrush and toothpaste were set by the sink, along with her comb and hairbrush. Finally, Talia placed her incense holders. She put one in the bathroom, two in the bedroom, two in the living room, and one in the foyer.

Finished with her unpacking, Talia sat on the king-sized bed. She fished an envelope from her handbag and retrieved the invitation it contained. Jeremy Mallard, a newly elected governor was hosting a party in Gotham to think his donors. Henri Ducard's generous gift a year before had been more than enough to warrant an invitation for his daughter. Talia dialed her R.S.V.P. number using the hotel phone.

"Hello, Mrs. Mallard," she said with a moderate French accent. "It's Talia again." She chuckled. "Yes, I just got in. The flight was excellent, _merci_." She giggled at the woman's reply. "I was wondering—Oh, he has? Wonderful." She gave an embarrassed giggle. "You didn't tell him, did you? Oh, thank you. It's been so long since I saw Bruce at Princeton, and I do want to surprise him. _Merci_."

Talia hung up the phone and put down the invitation.

She went to the closet. She selected a black dress, sleek and sleeveless. The modest but form-fitting top balanced the backless dress, and the simple bottom allowed for dancing and easy movement without marring the lines the dress created. She chose heels, ones that would strap up her leg. Talia selected a silver hairpin with a black jewel in it.

Her outfit prepared, Talia went into the bathroom. She stripped and stepped into the shower. As she washed her hair, the woman considered her plans. Tomorrow night, she would wash her hair and skin in oils that smelled of honey and milk. Jasmine perfume would complete the ensemble.

Once she was finished washing her hair, Talia crossed to the bathtub. She tied back her hair as she filled the tub with steaming water. While it ran, she poured lavender in the tub. Once the bath was prepared, Talia slid into the tub and let out a sigh, taking a deep breath of the fumes it let off.

Tomorrow, she would properly meet Bruce Wayne. Tonight, she would relax.

Hopefully, she would be able to sleep without dreaming.


	7. A Debt to be Paid

_A Debt to be Paid_

**Summary- **A new Ra's Al Ghul must be found after Henri Ducard's death.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the characters. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

The men generally ignored the woman. At most, they gave her a brief glance before moving on. She appreciated their discretion. They assembled themselves into five groups, each one with eight men. Talia knew each one of them. They were all the best of the League of Shadows. Each man had dedicated at least twenty years of service to their ideals. The groups represented the fortresses they reported to. One was in North America, one in South America. Another came from a fortress in Africa, and another from Eastern Europe. The final group had called Mongolia home, and they had sworn to rebuild the fortress.

The next wave of men entered the chamber. Ten men of carrying ethnicity entered. Talia offered her hands, and each man clasped them between his own before moving on. Two men stepped to every group for a brief greeting. These were the generals, second only to Ra's Al Ghul. Many had served for forty years or more. Two were assigned to each fortress to command it when Ra's Al Ghul was away. A council of this nature had not been called for over a hundred years.

A man well advanced in age, Talia estimated he was at least eighty, addressed the gathered forces. "My colleagues," he said in English, "I welcome you all." He frowned "I am sorry to have had to call this meeting, but it is necessary. Ra's Al Ghul has died without a clear successor. The purpose of our gathering is to decide what young man will lead our organization into the next age."

"Sir, may I address your council?" Talia Ducard said.

"I would be a poor member of the League of Shadows if I denied the daughter of Ra's Al Ghul the right to speak to those who will choose her father's successor."

"You have my gratitude," Talia replied. She bowed her head to the ten generals briefly before she looked at them again. "My father declared his successor." She raised her hand to request silence. "Even after the Mongolian fortress fell, my father maintained that Bruce Wayne was to lead the League of Shadows."

"I believe Mister Wayne has made his disinterest known," another general said.

Talia quirked an eyebrow. Her tone stopped just short of mocking him. "By killing Ra's Al Ghul?" She bowed her head briefly before raising it to continue. "That is one of the most common means of succession. My father killed the previous Ra's Al Ghul for the right to lead the League of Shadows and to marry the daughter of Ra's Al Ghul, my mother."

The oldest man replied, "We cannot risk an agent should he refuse."

"I will go," Talia said. "Bruce Wayne will be in Gotham City. I will speak to him personally. He owes my father a debt. My father, my home, and my mother are all gone because of him." Talia paused briefly. "Bruce Wayne will have two options. He can either lead the League of Shadows with the daughter of the previous Ra's Al Ghul beside him, protecting her as those he killed should have and as Ra's Al Ghul intended him to, or he can pay the debt he owes my father—in blood."

"How long will you require?"

Talia looked at the general carefully. "Eighteen months. Six to prepare, twelve to convince Mister Wayne."

"And if he kills you rather than lead the League of Shadows?" the general asked.

"Then he is free of all obligation to the League," Talia answered.

The ten men glanced between one another. Finally, the eldest spoke. "You go with our blessing."

"You have my gratitude," Talia repeated. She bowed her head again before she departed.


	8. Funeral Procession

_Funeral Procession_

**Summary- **The body of Henri Ducard is transported.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the characters. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

Four men served as pallbearers for the simple cedar coffin. They departed from the train with their cargo in an almost militant fashion. Carefully, they loaded the coffin onto a mule-drawn cart. The Mongolian driver kept his eyes forward, pretending he knew nothing about the situation. What few others there were on the platform did the same. Six men stood around the cart, and one woman stood near.

"You are sure?" she asked the front-right pallbearer.

"Yes, madam," the man answered. His voice bore a notably American accent.

The woman touched the top of the coffin. "We will take you home."

She climbed into the front of the cart with the driver. Wordlessly, he urged the mule into motion. The six guards moved in formation, three on either side of the cart.

For an hour, the driver remained silent. No one in the villages talked to these strange people. If they asked for a favor, it was done swiftly and without question or conversation. The villagers left these people alone, and they were generally shown the same consideration. However, this man couldn't help but glance at the woman beside him. She was young, probably his daughter's age. Grown, yes, and old enough to have a family, but she was still young. Carefully, he touched her hands, which she had folded in her lap.

"I am sorry for your loss," he said in Mongolian.

She didn't look at him. The man wondered if the rising sun reflecting off the snow made her eyes shine like they did or if, perhaps, the danger the mountain temple had contained was human enough to produce tears. She spoke quietly, and the man felt she was miles away. "Death is the natural end of every life."

The man patted her hands again, and the woman looked at him. He felt as if he should pity the almost confused, almost suspicious look in her eyes. He slowed his mule. The mountain was now too steep for the cart. The coffin would have to be carried the rest of the way on foot.

As the six escorts unloaded the cart, the driver looked at the woman. Gently, he asked, "Who is he?"

Talia Ducard paused. He wondered if she was deciding whether or not to answer. She bowed her head, and the driver thought he heard the faintest waver in her voice when she replied.

"My father."


	9. Wealth and Splendor

_Wealth and Splendor_

**Summary- **A member of the League of Shadows is well cared for by their servants.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the characters. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

A slim, dark-eyed woman peeled a heavy fur coat off the twenty-year-old before her. The girl's limbs seemed barely able to move, and her breaths cam harshly as her lungs fought to expel the frigid air they contained. The women walked down the silent chamber together. The girl removed two scarves as they went, draping them over the woman's waiting arm.

"I had Hyun draw a bath for you, Talia," the woman said when they reached a painted door.

As they crossed into the next room, Talia replied. "Thank you, Mother."

Hyun looked up from preparing the bath when the women entered. She and the two Vietnamese women assisting her bowed politely. When Talia gestured, they resumed their duties. Hyun, a pretty Korean woman just older than Talia, poured scented oils into the steaming water of the in-ground tub. While reserved for Talia alone now, it could easily have allowed six people room to bathe.

"What is your name?" Talia asked the Vietnamese woman who came over to her. The girl, probably younger than Talia, stared at her.

"She asked your name," Talia's mother Lian supplied in Mandarin. She gave Talia a gentle smile. "You asked in French."

"Mai," the girl answered.

Talia nodded. "How did you come here?" she asked, this time speaking Mandarin.

Mai replied as she unbuttoned Talia's second, thinner coat. "Lord Aram brought my brother Dihn here. I was told I could come as well if I would serve." She gasped when she removed Talia's coat and saw the clothes beneath it were stained in blood.

"Do not stare," Hyun snapped. She looked at Talia. "Pardon her, she—"

"Needs no apology," Talia assured them both. "One must have time to grow accustomed to our ways." She nodded, and Mai began to carefully unbutton her cuffs and collar. "Are you mine?" Talia asked.

Mai nodded. She bit her lip when Talia, slightly impatient, pulled away to finish undressing by herself. "I am," she answered. "I had hoped, when my brother completes his training—"

"If," Hyun corrected. Mai paled.

"If I might—"

"Serve him?" Talia finished. She stepped over the slightly raised edge of the tub. "Of course. I would not keep family apart."

Talia submerged herself entirely in the water while her mother disappeared with her clothing. When she came to the surface, the second Vietnamese woman, Yen, was waiting with a tray of oils. As Hyun assisted in washing Talia with one oil, Yen applied the other to Talia's hair, even combing it in.

The assassin dipped beneath the water again to rinse herself before she climbed from the tub. Hyun offered a thick towel and helped Talia dry herself while yet pressed Talia's hair with another towel. Mai delivered a silk robe, which Talia put on and tied at the waist.

"You may tend to your other duties," Talia told Yen. She nodded to Hyun and Mai. "You two will come with me."

The three women followed a short corridor to a locked door. Talia looked to Hyun, who unlocked it.

Inside was a massive bedroom, second only to the one used by Ra's Al Ghul. The four-poster bed, draped in red and gold silk with curtains of the same color, could have held at least four people. An ornate dresser contained a mirror and an array of perfumes. A large wardrobe waited in one corner. Books of every sort and in many languages lined the numerous cases. Handmade gold stands displayed many of Talia's hairpins. Incense holders released warm, intoxicating smells into the air.

Talia looked around the room and breathed in deep. She crossed to the bed and sat. "When will my father return?"

"Three days," Hyun replied.

Talia nodded. She pushed back the expensive covers of the bed and crawled under them. With one hand, she untied the curtain nearest her. The half-transparent fabric fell into place, and she laid her head on a pillow. She drew in a few more breaths of the spiced air before her body surrendered to deep, dreamless sleep.


	10. Once Bitten, Twice Shy

_Once Bitten, Twice Shy_

**Summary- **Even a well trained assassin makes mistakes in her youth.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the characters. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

Talia Ducard carefully removed her hairpins. She studied one, running her finger over its top, feeling the deadly point. She set it down quickly. Her fingers curled around a pen, only to release it a moment later. She'd write her father from the road, she decided. Hopefully he'd forgive her someday, but she couldn't go through with this assignment.

A knock at the door distracted the seventeen-year-old. She rose and threw open the door. A man nearly ten years her senior walked in. Talia threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. He gripped her side and pulled her closer.

"Arya," Talia whispered. The kissed again, and she broke it only when his hand grazed her chest. She sat on her bed. "When do we leave?"

"Soon," he cooed.

"And we'll marry?"

"Just before we leave." His smile made her smile as well.

Talia allowed him to sit beside her. He stroked her hair, tangling strands of it in his fingers. His other had caressed her side. Talia wondered how her father had been so wrong. Arya was nothing like she'd been told. He was handsome, warm, and gentle. He had treated her with respect, whispered vows of love and proposals of marriage. So different than the cruel rajah she'd expected, a man who squandered money on whores to satisfy his lust and abandoned his people for weeks at a time to indulge in some new sin.

Talia smiled at the feeling of his lips on her throat.

"You're very good," Arya whispered. Before Talia could reply, he threw her onto the bed and pinned her. She stared up at him, confused. He laughed. "_Very_ good. I almost believed you."

"Arya," Talia whispered, "what—"

"I know," he hissed. "Whoever sent you was smart. A beautiful young woman? The perfect assassin." He held her shoulders tighter. "If you'd just slept with me, you'd be done, but your 'virtuous' act gave one of your people time to get greedy. He sold you out."

Talia stared up at the man, her mind spinning. She came to her senses when his hand moved from her shoulder to grab her thigh.

"Can't let a good thing go to waste, though. I'll kill you after I'm done."

Talia screamed. She thrashed on the bed long enough for his to discount her attempts. As Arya held her down, waiting for her to wear herself out with ineffective movement, she slammed her hand up, striking between his eyes. The blow disoriented him enough for Talia to get up. She hurried to her dresser and retrieved a hairpin. She looked at Arya with tears in her eyes.

Before she could speak, the door was forced open. Henri Ducard entered and surveyed the scene. A large man waited behind him.

"Father, he—"

Ducard looked at his daughter. "Silence." He gave Arya a glare that dared him to move. He looked at his companion. "Kamal, I will finish here. Take my daughter to the ship and get her settled in her room. Keep her out of my sight."

"Father, I—" Talia began. She reached out to touch his arm. He slapped her across the face.

"You are a disgrace," he snapped. "If you have any sense, you will leave now. When we return to Mongolia, you will intensify your training and not leave or show your face near me until I send for you." The tears on his daughter's face only hardened his gaze. "Go."

Kamal stepped forward to Talia's arm and lead her from the room. He politely pretended not to see the tears that fell.


	11. Setting the Dominoes

_Setting the Dominoes_

**Summary- **Every plan requires the proper groundwork.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the characters. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

A thin, nearly skeletal hand adjusted the frames of a pair of glasses. The emaciated figure stared at the woman across the table from him with hard, cold blue eyes. She looked back at him, fearless as she sipped her cup of tea. When he cocked his head, the epitome of arrogance, she bowed hers, the picture of humility.

"I was told that I would be meeting your employer," Jonathan Crane said.

"I apologize," the woman replied. "Plans, as you surely know, go awry. My employer is unable to meet with you today, Doctor, but he hopes his absence will not void your agreement."

Dr. Crane stiffened. He regarded the woman carefully. She was young, too young to be anyone of importance. "Your employer is offering me funding and supplies. What, precisely, does he expect of me?"

Talia Ducard bowed her head. "He only asks for results. Further instructions will be delivered by another agent, but they will not be difficult to comply with or hinder your experiments in any way." She reached down and touched the handle of the briefcase near her. "If that is not to your liking, though—"

"No need to be hasty." Crane put down his cup of tea. "Tell your employer that I am insulted by his lack of consideration, but our arrangement stands." He rose. "I assume you will take care of the bill?" Talia nodded, and Crane picked up the briefcase she had touched. E left an almost identical one inches away.

Talia sipped her tea as she watched him go.

After the doctor's car left the café's lot, headed back on the long trip to Gotham, a man joined Talia from a nearby table. He met her eyes and smiled. "He will be useful," Henri Ducard said in French.

"Why are we supporting the transport of drugs?" Talia asked in the same language.

"The flowers by themselves would arouse suspicion."

"So our agents will be putting our flowers—flowers we have considered nearly sacred for generations—into bags of heroin that a mobster brings in to poison the city and further desperation?" Her tone remained level, but her eyes grew dark.

"Talia," Ducard muttered.

"Gotham must fall," Talia replied, "but are we to prolong the people's suffering?"

"You are still young, Talia. You do not fully understand the world yet." Ducard paused to take her hand. "What is necessary may seem cruel at times, but as an agent of the League of Shadows, you must have the courage to do it. Are you capable of that, my child?"

Talia stared into her father's eyes for several moments before she nodded. "Gotham is your concern. How you and Bruce Wayne choose to deal with her is not my concern, Father."

Henri Ducard squeezed her hand. "He will be ready soon, so all the pieces must be in place before we strike. Let the doctor and the mobster further their aims. They will be destroyed when Gotham collapses around them." He released her hand. "When we are finished, I will send for you."


	12. Ceremony

_Ceremony_

**Summary- **Talia visits the Lazarus Pit to perform an ancient ritual.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the characters. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

A single candle flickered.

The dancing light illuminated the face of Talia Ducard. She took the steep stone steps carved into the mountain's cavern slowly. Her bare feet made little sound, and the bottom of her white robes skirted the dusty floor.

Talia stopped at the bottom of the stairs. She touched the tip of her candle into two ancient braziers, one on either side of the threshold. The oil within them erupted, throwing light onto the entirety of the chamber.

A pool of steaming water waited in the center, a hot spring in the middle of the frozen wasteland. All around it, gravestones stood proud. Unlike the graves above ground, these bore names. The northern face of the mountain held the graves of servants, their resting places marked with white stones. The graves of members of the League of Shadows were placed on the mountain's southern face. What bodies could be had been recovered and buried there. Some, though, were buried in family plots where they had called home while others were never found. Still, every lost member had a stone. Those who died in service were honored with black stones, and white stones represented every death from natural causes. In this chamber, however, something grander waited. Here were the graves of the immortals, the final resting places of Ra's Al Ghul.

Talia carried her candle through the arches of graves surrounding the Lazarus Pit. She started on the right of the narrow path nearest the hot spring. She lit the candle in front of the grave of the first Ra's Al Ghul, the second son of a powerful king who overthrew his corrupt brother and installed his younger brother on the throne. He then disappeared into the mountains to form a brotherhood of warrior monks to protect mankind from their own taint.

Talia knelt as she lit the candles in front of each grave, heedless of the dust gathering on her robe. She paused at the newest grave. She traced her father's carved name with the tips of her fingers before she felt the top of the grave. She could feel the edge of the hole that had been made when the tombstone was carved. It had been sealed once the ashes of the cremated Ra's Al Ghul had been placed inside the hallowed, hollowed chamber. Talia bowed her head, silent.

After several long moments, she rose. She looked at the water and spoke quietly.

"Immortal spirit, constant leader of the League of Shadows, your rest must be disturbed once more. I shall not burden you with my fragility long, and you will receive a more worthy vessel soon. The task will be difficult, though, and my strength alone my prove lacking. Unfit as I am, aid me."

It felt strange, addressing the soul of Ra's Al Ghul, and Talia knew it was likely unnecessary. Her father had never mentioned doing such a thing. She wasn't sure how someone dead, a spirit without a body, might hear her anyway. Still, in some small way, she felt comforted to have spoken her worries aloud.

She approached the water and stopped. What legends were true? Would the spirit deem her unworthy and hold her under until she drowned? Would she have visions of those who the immortal had fortified before? Would she feel the strength course through her? Would nothing happen? Were the legends stories and nothing more?

Talia drew in and released a long, heavy breath before she continued. She entered the pool and submerged herself entirely. When she surfaced, she felt sure she'd seen no visions. Something in her, though, soothed her. With the strength of Ra's Al Ghul added to her own, she knew she could not fail.

She could go to Gotham without fear.

She would go to Gotham without fear.


	13. Forgiveness

_Forgiveness  
_

**Summary- **Penance means little if it is never acknowledged.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the characters. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

Five assailants came at Talia Ducard, one from every direction. Each carried a sword while their victim was unarmed. She spun, ducked, rose, and sidestepped. Every movement she made was controlled, all of her steps planned and easily executed. Watching her was watching poetry. Even her strikes were musical.

She twisted away from a sword and seized the wrist of another attacker. A few sharp, staccato movements saw her swooping down to retrieve a fallen blade. It chimed as she parried a blow and baited the man into another step forward.

"It's been nearly a month."

High above the chamber on an observation deck, Henri Ducard missed seeing his daughter down her foe. Instead, he looked over at his wife.

"She barely sleeps, and it's all I can do to convince her to eat," Lian murmured. "Speak with her, Henri. Or acknowledge her, at the very least."

He sighed. "Lian, she must learn."

"She has." Lian met her husband's gaze. "She is allowed some foolishness. She is, after all, quite young."

"She's seventeen. She's not a child."

"Was your judgment flawless at that age?" The reproach was clear, no matter how gentle Lian made her voice. "Was there no poor decision where a pretty girl was concerned? She's done nothing more than that, Henri."

Henri sighed and glanced at the chamber below. Only his daughter was still standing. Her face was cut, but the sword in her hand was slick with blood drawn from the others. He looked back at his wife and held her gaze. Finally, he nodded.

"Tell her to take supper with me."


	14. No Distraction

_No Distraction_

**Summary- **Eventually, there is a moment without distraction.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the characters. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

Talia dismissed the Hungarian woman sent by one of the generals of the council of the League of the Shadows. She assured the woman she'd eaten only an hour before, and the servant believed her. Once alone, Talia lit two sticks of incense before lying down on the bed. She closed her eyes as the scent of sandalwood filled the room.

Despite her attempts to soothe it, Talia's mind refused to settle.

Tomorrow, she would address the council. A woman had done no such thing for centuries. She intended to nominate a man who had burned her home to the ground for the head of the League of Shadows. She would announce her plan to marry her father's murderer. If she succeeded, she would do what no woman had ever done. If granted leave to go to Gotham City, she would return to Mongolia and implore Ra's Al Ghul to consider her as a temporary vessel for his spirit. She could not even hope for success without his immortal soul to strengthen her.

Talia's lips parted as she opened her eyes. Her head felt heavy, and the room seemed out of focus. The incense, she assured herself as she blinked to try and clear her vision. She coughed. It must be too old, too dry, she decided. Her eyes shut as she coughed again and struggled to breathe easily. She barely kept herself from screaming.

Her eyes stung and her coughing worsened as she thought about how foolish she was being. Her father would be ashamed of her. What sort of assassin was she if she was so badly affected by two pieces of poor incense?

But he would not scold her. She'd never see him frown and turn away. He'd never flash her a smile, an expression she only ever saw out of the corner of her eye. He'd never stare her down, daring her to make one wrong move in their spars. She'd never see his hand ghost across her mother's again. He would never send her another letter. She would never stand with him and view the beautiful, devastating expanse of snow and ice that surrounded the fortress.

Talia smacked her lips as she tasted salt. Her body felt too heavy to rise, though, so the incense would have to burn itself out. Another coughing fit left Talia too exhausted to even think.

She finally fell asleep.


	15. A Plan Gone Awry

_A Plan Gone Awry_

**Summary- **When things don't go according to plan—improvise.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the characters. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

The locks on the house posed no great challenge. Talia Ducard forced them easily. A man screaming in the kitchen made her sure she had the right house. Some mistress of another, Talia considered. She'd leave, storm out the back door to nurse her new bruises. Talia frowned. The woman deserved it. One bruise was an injustice, but the second spoke to nothing but idiocy.

"You lying slut!" Jeremy Bryant yelled.

"Jeremy! Oh god!" The woman's scream made the hair on the back of Talia's neck stan. She knew that kind of scream too well.

When the assassin reached the kitchen, the floor was already stained red. The woman bleeding out was no mistress. It was Hannah Bryant, Jeremy's wife. Talia looked at the simpering woman without pity. She'd made her bed long ago.

"Who the fuck are you?" Bryant demanded, still brandishing the bloody kitchen knife.

Talia smiled. This American businessman made his fortune looting Hindu temples and ripping off devout villagers. She cocked her head before she answered. "Kali."

The execution was fast and brutal. Talia evaded wild slashes of the knife and kicked Jeremy's knee out from under him. She positioned her hands and broke his neck before throwing his body aside. As she prepared to leave, a stair creaked. Talia slid into the hall, ready to leave a third body to make her escape.

A five-year-old boy looked at her. He was still crying. "You're a friend of Daddy's. That's why he was yelling." He looked at her accusingly. "Right?"

Talia stared a moment. Connor was supposed to be with his grandfather this weekend. She remembered herself enough to reply. "No."

"Who are you?"

"I'm—" Talia paused before she forced a smile. "I'm a friend of your mom."

"Really?"

"Promise. Listen, I need you to do me a big favor."

"What?"

"I need you to tell me the name of your best friend and where they live. I—Your mom told me to take you for a sleepover."

"Why? Mommy never—"

Talia met his eyes, and something connected. He hurried up the stairs and returned clutching a raggedy teddy bear. Talia picked him up easily and carried him out of the house, careful to never allow him to see the kitchen. She helped the boy into her waiting car before she got behind the wheel.

After she'd gotten the address from the boy, Talia and the child were silent until the car stopped. Connor got out.

"Take care of yourself," Talia murmured. She leaned over to pick up his bear from where it had fallen and offered it to him. "Don't forget this."


	16. Face to Face

_Face to Face_

**Summary- **Talia Ducard and Bruce Wayne come face to face.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the characters. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

A portly woman with poorly dyed auburn hair giggled. It was a sound extremely unbecoming of a woman her age, her captive thought. The young woman's pale eyes discreetly darted around for a means of escape, but she saw none. All of the other occupants of the table sat, enraptured by their hostess or acting the part admirably. After nearly an hour of charity one-up manship, Talia Ducard was almost ready to quit the governor's dinner without completing her objective. There were other ways to meet Bruce Wayne.

"Jennifer, darling," a man's voice cut off another insipid story about how much of a difference the state's first lady had made by standing for four hours, ladling food onto a plate. What disgusted Talia most was the woman's sincerity. She truly believed that she had personally helped so many. How, the younger wondered, did she not realize how replaceable she was? Any person could do the same. She'd said nothing about focusing her husband's attention on the plight of the hungry, merely how she'd helped so many that day. The man laughed as he said, "So, this is where you've gotten to."

Jennifer Mallard giggled again and turned in her chair. "Timothy!" She announced it as though no one else at the table could have recognized the man. "Sit, sit. We were just talking about you, darling." She gave a girlish squeal that made Talia tense. "I see you've brought company along."

"Bruce, you remember Jennifer, don't you?" the governor asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"Well, I certainly hope he does." Mrs. Mallard giggled again. "How are you, Bruce?"

The exchange pulled Talia out of the reserved, polite auto-pilot she had allowed herself to slip into. While ignoring their on-going conversation, she gave the newcomers a casual glance. Timothy Mallard, a man ten years older than his wife and forty pounds more overweight than her, was dismissed as unimportant. The man with him earned closer study. At thirty-one, he was tall and slim. His tuxedo was tailored, the cuffs on it adorned with gold cufflinks. His slick hair and easy smile suggested he was never more at home than when he was toasting with the fat cats who surrounded him now. Talia knew better. Under the polished clothing was a man who knew how to fight in the harshest of situations. Behind those haughty eyes was a will that could not be broken.

Talia allowed herself to stare for a moment as she took in Bruce Wayne.

"Pardon me," Bruce said as he met Talia's gaze briefly. She thought she saw him tense before he addresses Mrs. Mallard again. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure of meeting your guest." He smiled at her, all charm, but Talia thought she saw something just behind his eyes, something akin to suspicion.

Mrs. Mallard frowned. "Really, Bruce?" She offered Talia a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry, dear. I had hoped he'd remember."

"Remember?" Bruce asked.

Talia bowed her head politely and let the first lady do something she loved—speak for someone else. "Miss Ducard has been telling us all about your time together at Princeton." She looked at the younger woman again. "I'm sorry, Talia. And you were so hoping to surprise him."

"No, no," Talia murmured, lacing her words with a French accent. "You exaggerate, Mrs. Mallard. I met Mr. Wayne in one economics class we attended. He," she paused, as if trying to find the correct words, "made quite an impression. I suppose I did not." She met Bruce's eyes and watched how quickly his mind worked.

He smiled at her while also looking appropriately humbled by his lapse in memory. "Talia," he said with all due warmth. "I'm afraid I didn't recognize you with your hair so long. God, how long has it been?"

"A very long time, Mr. Wayne," she replied sweetly. "Papa would be amazed to see you now."

"Is your father here? I'd like to thank him for his contribution," the governor asked.

Talia cast her eyes to the ground. "I am sorry, Mr. Mallard. My father died some time ago. There was a train accident not far outside Nice."

"I'm sorry, dear," Mrs. Mallard whispered as she patted Talia's arm.

"Would you like to get some air, Talia?" The request brought Talia's gaze back to Bruce. For a moment—and meant for her eyes alone—his eyes hardened and dared her to defy him. Part of her wondered what he could possibly do in front of so many people if she did, but her curiosity over how he would prefer to play the situation won. "We could catch up."

"Of course, Mr. Wayne." She rose and smiled at him. "Lead, and I shall follow."

The corners of his mouth threatened to sink into a frown as he relied, jovially but with a serious, warning look, "I'd prefer to escort you, rather than lead."


	17. The Question of How

_The Question of How_

**Summary-** On her way to Gotham City, Talia considers her options.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the characters. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

Talia closed her eyes as the large plane sped down the Beijing runway. After her meeting with the generals of the League of Shadows, she'd returned to Mongolia to attempt to claim the power of Ra's Al Ghul. Her goal met, she packed what little of her possessions she had left and shipped them to her Gotham hotel suite. She followed from Beijing, preferring the times of their flight to the one Mongolia's international airport had offered. Thankfully, her father had banked his money as Henri Ducard. Had he kept it as property of Ra's Al Ghul, it would have belonged to the League of Shadows upon his death. Keeping it under his own name meant a tithe for the League was withdrawn immediately, but it had allowed the sizeable fortune that remained to be inherited by his next of kin.

As the plane rose, Talia considered the task before her. She had the permission of the League of Shadows to do as she saw fit, but she had yet to settle on the proper way to handle Bruce Wayne. Emotional appeals would be an insult to the both of them. But what form of intellectual approach would be best?

She could lay it out simply—tell him his options at once. There would be no confusion that way. He would know he had to marry her or face her in combat, a battle that would have only one survivor. Still, simple as it might be, Talia wondered if it was too direct. It lacked any polish. She could approach him as a treasure, something he could possess if he fulfilled his obligation. That struck her as too mercenary. If he could be motivated by greed along, he would never have left the League at all. She refused to present herself as helpless, to ask him to protect her. He would have to make his decision on her, not on some act. She would not play a damsel in distress or a coy woman seeking to trap a husband or a distraught girl looking to right the wrongs done against her family. None of those were her, and she would not lure Bruce Wayne back to the League under false pretenses.

She could, Talia considered, use the most practical approach. She could approach the man as the daughter of his mentor, there to collect her father's prodigal son and rightful successor. To obtain that position, he would, of course, have to comply with Henri Ducard's other requirement. He would have to marry her. It was certainly the most sensible approach. Talia felt sure of that. And Bruce Wayne was certainly her father's rightful heir.

Not only had he been named to the position by her father in his letters, he had also repeated the most common pattern for succession. Talia knew her own father had killed the former Ra's Al Ghul, her mother's father. It was, from what Talia had been told, the only way he would allow her father to marry her mother. A week after the funeral, the ceremony occurred. Even now, Talia would not understand her mother. Either the woman was stronger than Talia had ever imagined, or she was stupider than her daughter had ever thought.

While ready to marry Bruce Wayne and fulfill her father's wishes now, Talia knew what she would have done a week after her father's death. She would have put a dagger in his heart, or worse if she'd had to watch as her mother had.

Talia reclined as the smooth path of the plane and calm she felt after several days of constant activity lulled her. She would marry Bruce Wayne if he agreed to the arrangement. She would take him to her bed as any wife should. She would bear his children. Hopefully a son would be born first. She would not love him. Of that, Talia was more than certain. Her father's blood stained that man's hands as well as the blood of agents of the League of Shadows, her mother, and the servants of the fortress. Every touch would stain her with their blood as well. If he would not marry her, they would settle the matter with one more person's blood.

There were no other options.


	18. Holiday Tradition

_Holiday Tradition_

**Summary- **Talia Ducard attends a Christmas celebration in Gotham City.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the character. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

"Peace on Earth and mercy mild, God and sinner reconciled."

Talia listened as the soprano went on. The singer had some minor fame from what Talia had heard, but she wagered that the woman's name wouldn't be remembered in a year. For now, Gotham enjoyed their star and bathed her in the limelight she so craved.

When the song finished, Talia caught the woman's eye and raised a glass. How could she fault her? Talia glanced around. Nearly every man and woman in this crowded hall was like her. When her voice gave way, she would be forgotten. The same fate awaited nearly every person in attendance. If the billionaire fell on hard times, if the mayor's mistress went public, if the lieutenant's bribe-taking was exposed, if the assistant district attorney came out... Every one of them stood on the edge.

Even Bruce Wayne.

Especially Bruce Wayne.

What would Gotham do if it knew its favorite son was the outlaw vigilante Batman? Talia met the man's gaze, and she knew he was suspicious. He distrusted her. Of all the people he could have invited to the mayor's Christmas party, he'd written to extend the invitation to her. She suffered no delusions as to why. He felt compelled to attend, and he would not allow Henri Ducard's daughter unlimited access to Gotham City in his absence. Not even for one night. Eventually, she'd tell him that she knew. She'd tell him the hundred little things he'd done over the last two months to reveal himself as the crime-fighter she'd encountered several times. But not tonight.

Talia finished her glass of punch and handed it off to a passing waiter. She walked toward the buffet table and the row of ready drinks at the end of it. Bruce saw her and, perhaps to present a show of chivalry, went in the same direction. He arrived first and offered Talia a new drink. She looked at the cup in his hand before finally deciding not to retrieve another. She stepped forward the accepted the cup.

"Lucky," a woman behind her said. Talia looked at her. The woman, a leggy brunette, smiled. "I've been waiting to see him over here all night."

"Pardon?" Talia replied. A practiced French accent laced the word.

The woman laughed. "Look up."

Talia did so. She heard a slight sound from the man near her. Whatever she had been unaware of, he had not noticed until now either. A plant was hung from the ceiling with red string, its white berries and green leaves strategically poised above the punch bowl. She looked back at the woman, and her expression said enough. There was some form of foolish holiday ritual attached. She looked at Bruce again.

He laughed, wearing a broad grin. The playboy was in his element. His eyes and the slight tension of his body revealed the disconnect between that man and the man underneath. "It's a tradition," he explained.

Before Talia could ask a question, Bruce touched her cheek lightly. She stopped mid-word to stare at him. He bowed his head and kissed her. Talia's body stiffened, and she raised a hand to his forearm. She squeezed through his jacket and shirt, and Bruce knew the vice grip was a warning. He stepped back a moment later with a playful laugh. Talia stared at him. For a moment, she wasn't sure what to do.

Finally, she settled on the only course of action that made sense. She turned, walked away, and said nothing to him for the rest of the evening.


	19. A Kind of Mercy

_A Kind of Mercy_

**Summary- **Sometimes a mark can surprise an assassin.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins_ and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the character. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

"I wondered when we would meet."

Talia stared at the man. Of all the things she had expected to hear when he found a strange woman in his room, she had never imagined that. The Bhutanese king, Ahmet, closed the door behind himself.

"You know who I am?"

"Talia Ducard, an assassin of the League of Shadows."

Talia frowned. She waited, but the man drew no weapon. He held out his hands, palms up. "How?" she demanded.

"An informant. He said there was a threat against my life, and I paid him to tell me more."

"How much?" The knowledge would be worthless, but Talia felt she had to know.

"A million American dollars." Ahmet paused. "May I ask you a question?"

Talia nodded. Whoever this was, she felt sure he was the same man who had betrayed her to Arya. The traitor deserved—needed punishment. He had to be stopped before he destroyed the League.

"Who hired you?" The king looked at Talia; his eyes pleaded with her. "I know I will die here, but I want to know who hired you."

"The League of Shadows is not paid for their services," she answered. "Our names are rarely recorded, our deeds usually unknown."

"Then why?"

"Your people suffer. You bow to the whims of every adviser without considering the wisdom of their suggested course, give unreasonable concessions to any power who threatens your country. Your only son is dying, and your consort wastes money that might otherwise help those in need as she desperately tries to conceive to satisfy her desire to be mother to a king.' Talia's apathy affected him. As she listed his crimes, he paled and sank onto his bed.

"And you—" he whispered.

"We are a last resort, the final hope of otherwise doomed nations. From the shadows, we remove those unfit and replace them. If it is too late for that, we have the power to topple everything and leave nothing but a ruin."

"There is no hope for me? My son?"

His earnest question touched some chord within Talia. Her reply was more genuine than even she expected. "No. I'm sorry."

Ahmet managed to smile at her. "How old are you?"

"Twenty."

"My son is twenty." He smiled a moment longer. Then, he sighed. "Can you... make it look natural? That will grieve Chong less, and I hate to make her cry." He paused. "I have always wanted to help my people. If this is the only way, I will not fight."

Talia considered his request and reached into her pocket. "It is a slow poison," she explained, "but it will put you to sleep then slow the heart to a stop." He held out his hand. After some hesitation, Talia relinquished the bottle. "A sip or two will do."

Ahmet drank two mouthfuls, nearly emptying the bottle, before he returned it. "How long will it take?"

"You'll be asleep in half an hour or less. In another thirty minutes, it will be over."

"May I ask one more favor?"

Talia only nodded. She had never faced a man ready to be assassinated to help his country. She reminded herself that she— that the League— was a last resort. She would not be here if there was any other option.

"stay. I would prefer not to die alone."

"On one condition." It was the only way Talia could justify such an action. Ahmet nodded. "Tell me who betrayed me."

"Takshak," he answered.

Talia sat on the bed and allowed the man to wait for death with his head on her lap. She saw something of her father in him. He was a good man. He'd failed at times, but he did not fear death. He looked it in the eye and was at peace knowing that his death contributed to the greater good. As his eyes closed, waiting for the peace of sleep, Talia bowed her head.

Her father would die. She had always understood life and death, but her father's mortality had forever been just outside her thoughts, something that she could never quite grasp. Faced with a man she likened to her father, waiting with him for oblivion, Talia accepted the fact. Her father would someday die.

She stayed there until she could no longer feel the man's pulse with a touch to the neck. She stole out of the palace as easily as she had crept in. All the League and her father needed to know was that King Ahmet was dead.


	20. Embers

_Embers_

**Summary- **Sometimes, even the passage of time cannot put out every fire.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the character. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

  
"I have business in Gotham. If you leave well enough alone, there will be no bloodshed. If you complicate matters, I cannot promise a lack of fatalities."

Bruce Wayne replayed the message. He knew that voice. How could he ever forget it? Even after three years, he could close his eyes and conjure up the image of Talia.

"You've taken notice of the date, sir?" a quiet, polite tone prompted.

"Yes, Alfred." Bruce chuckled as he thought about it. "It's the thirteenth of May."

Alfred frowned as Bruce listened to the message again. "Punctual, certainly. You aren't—"

"I am." Bruce stopped the playback without deleting it.

*

A man dressed in black let himself into a Gotham hotel suite through the window. He left the lights off, but quickly took stock of the room. She'd come with few belongings, and she'd unpacked even less. The trip was only meant to last a few days.

Bruce Wayne removed his ski mask— having forgone his Batman costume tonight— and waited.

*

Not more than an hour later, the suite's door opened. The woman removed the hairpins from her hair as she turned on the lights. She met Bruce's gaze briefly before she resumed making herself comfortable in her hotel room.

"Thank you for just observing," she said as she unbuttoned her shirt's collar.

Bruce wasn't surprised. He'd seen Talia see him, and he meant her to see him. She had to be reminded that Gotham was his city. She didn't have free reign here. "You had it under control," he replied. "What's your next step?"

"The new spokesman for the union has strong financial ties. He'll raise a fuss, and the right people will notice."

"And the League?"

"Will do what is necessary."

Their eyes met, and Bruce conceded. She wouldn't tell him any more than she wanted.

In the silence that followed, he studied her. She hardly looked any different. The scar on her cheek— gotten from a brush with death at the Joker's hand— had faded, but he could still see it. He looked at her eyes and knew she was assessing him every bit as closely as he was her. He drew closer.

"It's May thirteenth," he murmured.

She hesitated briefly before she nodded. "I know."

Bruce touched her cheek. Talia stared up at him, but he knew her impassive expression was forced. He bowed his head and kissed her. She wrapped an arm around his neck and returned the kiss.

He heard her whisper, "_Xin ai._"


	21. Coming of Age

_Coming of Age_

**Summary- **For Talia Ducard, childhood ended at thirteen.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the character. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

Henri Ducard watched his daughter. He found it difficult to think of her as grown. Where was the wobbling five-year-old, barely able to balance on firm posts? What had become of the seven-year-old girl who could barely control a staff? When had the ten-year-old, nervous about learning swordplay, grown up?

He watched as the thirteen-year-old twisted, a sai in either hand. She was hardly an adult, but she was old enough. The boys raised by the League of Shadows, few and far between as they were, started assignments at eleven. It was unfair to them and her to shelter her any longer. As much as he wished he could stop time, keep his daughter young and innocent forever, Henri knew the time had come.

"Talia," he said as she finished sparring her imaginary partner.

The girl turned to face him and politely bowed her head. She answered him softly, "Father."

"Come with me."

Henri led his daughter through the fortress to his chambers. A servant took her weapons, and she nodded to her mother. Her father saw a glimmer of confusion enter Talia's pale eyes. He knew she was trying to figure out why Lian was present. His wife rarely sat in on private conversations he had with his daughter.

"Sit," he murmured to Talia.

With some hesitation, the girl sat on the bed near her mother. "Yes, Father?"

"You're thirteen now," he began. He had acknowledged every birthday, but he had intentionally let them pass without event. It made no sense to raise a child who expected a gift for simply surviving another year, not in the world of the League of Shadows. This year, however, was different. "Your mother and I have a gift."

Lian offered a wooden box on cue.

Talia took the box, silent. Henri knew her reaction was that of confusion, not a sign of an ungrateful child. He watched as she traced the carving on the box's lid. The sleek hawk, with its inlaid amber eye, was enough to hold anyone's attention. Finally, the girl looked up at him.

"Open it," he prompted.

She obeyed. "Father, Mother," she whispered.

Henri smiled as she examined her gifts. First, she drew two hairpins, topped with shining onyx stones, out. She was enamored enough with them just as they were, but Henri was pleased when she saw the sharp points at the ends and an understanding dawned in her eye. She seemed even happier with them. Next, she examined the vials in the box. She knew each of the twenty concoctions by sight from her father's lessons on poisons. Talia drew out a leather case then. She unfolded it and examined the long pieces of metal that would assist her in making short work of any locked door she might encounter.

"Thank you," she whispered when she regained herself.

Henri nodded. "Get some sleep. You have a plan to catch tomorrow morning at nine."

"A plane?" Talia repeated.

"You will be going on your first assignment. Damien will accompany you."

"My first..." Talia's eyes widened. "Really?"

Henri smiled at her and nodded.


	22. The Traitor

_The Traitor_

**Summary- **The League of Shadows does not tolerate traitors.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the character. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

"Talia, my dear."

The middle-aged Indian man laughed as he saw the twenty-year-old woman knelt on the mat in the room. He had told Ra's Al Ghul he wished a moment for meditation, and the man had specifically sent him to this room. It wasn't like Talia not to keep her father informed about her location. Still, he could find another room.

"Stop." The young woman's voice was clear and strong. With the proper husband, she would usher in a powerful new era for the League of Shadow. "We have much to discuss, Takshak."

"Do we?" the man asked. Had Ra's Al Ghul finally realized that his beautiful daughter would be best suited to a man already proven in the League? Takshak grinned at the idea and admired Talia from behind as she stood. Any man would be honored to be chosen as the next Ra's Al Ghul. To have such a woman given at the same time only added to the attraction.

Talia did not turn around. However, her left arm extended, and Takshak felt himself shake once. The hilt of a sword rested in her palm, and the blade gleamed in the light. He understood. He knew why Ra's Al Ghul had sent him here.

"Talia—" he began.

"I know." While she kept anger out of her oice, Talia couldn't keep her tone from becoming slightly bitter. "I know about Ahmet." She turned the sword. "I know about Arya."

"Surely you can understand business."

"You sold the League. We do not forgive traitors." She turned to face him.

Takshak froze. Talia Ducard was often lauded as the perfect assassin. Her breeding was exceptional, and her training nearly flawless. After her dalliance with emotion with Arya, she had come to be known for her disconnection to her work. She felt no anger or spite for her marks nor any thrill from bloodletting. At least, that was the report of those who watched her in action. She was ruthless but efficient. However, Takshak was not looking at an assassin. The eyes he stared into were filled with hate and vengeance.

"Will you fight and die with some semblance of honor?" Talia hissed. "Or shall I slit your throat, let you die as a pig should?"

"Talia," he said, trying to smile at her. "You are prepared, armed."

"I am." He barely saw her move. She jammed her sword into his stomach, holding the blade in position with one hand while the other reached up. She drew out a hairpin and brought the tip across his throat.

As the warm blood splattered her face, Talia stepped back. She watched the body fall to the ground. She told herself she didn't care. This was no different than any other assignment.

However, as she walked into the hall of the fortress, she felt a small smile tug at the corners of her lips.


	23. Options

_Options_

**Summary- **Talia Ducard makes Bruce Wayne an offer for the first time.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the character. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

"I'm surprised to see you here," Bruce Wayne said as he closed the balcony door behind himself. His hand hovered over the lock, but he decided against lock Mallard's guests inside the room.

"Are you?" Talia Ducard replied.

"I remember you."

"I'm honored." She sounded sincere.

"Are you actually his daughter? Or is that just your story for them?"

"Henri Ducard was my father."

Bruce said nothing for a long time, and Talia simply observed. His eyes cast down briefly, but his posture did not bend. He mourned, she decided, but felt justified. A sensible, if half sentimental, reaction. He met her eyes again.

"Why are you here?"

Her answer came without hesitation. "To see you, of course."

"What does the League want now?" She heard the faintest trace of hostility creep into his voice.

"Nothing." She held his gaze. "I am here on my father's behalf, not the League's."

Bruce watched her and waited. She continued after a moment.

"My father was very fond of you, Mr. Wayne. He spent at least a decade searching for a suitable successor to his empire. I watched unfit candidates come and go. Then," she paused. "Then he found you."

"I made it clear to your father that I wanted no part of the League of Shadows."

Talia continued as if he hadn't spoken. "Even after your falling out just before your return to Gotham, my father made his will clear. You were to be the next Ra's Al Ghul." Talia paused again, but Bruce didn't interject. "He was sure you would return with him as Gotham burned. He was sure he would welcome home his prodigal son." She surveyed the city from their high vantage point. "He had riches and power waiting for you and, naturally, the fatted calf, his most prized possession, saved for the one man he felt worthy to give it to."

Bruce understood. "You."

Talia looked at him and bowed her head slightly.

"And you would have allowed that?"

"Is that surprising, Mr. Wayne?"

"You don't seem the type."

"My father's word was law." She met his eyes. "I am an extremely competent assassin."

"i_That_/i doesn't surprise me."

"But I am still a woman, and the League of Shadows is a patriarchal organization. For every woman who proves herself capable of joining the ranks, there are at least ten-thousand men who do the same. I will not be discarded; I am far too valuable for that." She said it as fact, not as a boast. "However, any power I held was granted to be based on my status as the daughter of Ra's Al Ghul."

"And you don't want to surrender that power."

"I also wish to fulfill what my father wanted of me."

Bruce frowned. "I'm not sure what you were expecting, Miss Ducard, but my answer is no."

Talia shrugged. "I expected that."

"Then why come?"

"Do you deny responsibility for the fire that destroyed the League of Shadows's Mongolian fortress?"

Bruce averted his gaze slightly. "No."

"Do you deny responsibility for the death of Henri Ducard?"

Talia watched Bruce wrestle with the question. Finally, he met her eyes. "No."

She nodded. "You understand my position then. You destroyed my home and killed my father."

"I—"

"You allowed him to die. I see no difference."

Bruce was silent.

"I am here to collect a debt, Mr. Wayne," she continued. "It can be paid with marriage vows or with blood."

Bruce said nothing. He only watched Talia, and her pale eyes stared back.

"I have rented a room in Gotham for six months. I require no definite answer until my stay is over. You may choose to marry me or die by my hand. If I die in an attempt on your life, your debt is canceled. There would be no reprisal from the League if you killed me."

"Pretty drastic options."

"My father's wishes must be fulfilled, his death avenged, or his daughter killed trying to do as he willed."

"I'm not going to marry you," Bruce said, "and I won't kill you." He watched her closely. "And I won't be killed. I have a duty to protect Gotham."

Talia shrugged again. "One will happen, Mr. Wayne. That is how things must be. You have six months to decide which it will be."

Bruce watched Talia as she rejoined the party. He took a champagne flute from a passing waitress as he went back inside. Bruce Wayne knew he and Batman were in for a very long six months.


	24. Fear

_Fear_

**Summary- **Henri Ducard taught his daughter that fear is meant to be confronted and conquered.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the character. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

Talia Ducard took a deep breath in as she steadied herself. The metal platform shook as the monorail train neared, slowed, and eventually stopped. The doors hissed as they opened, and a wave of people poured out. When they finished, another crowd passed her, and new passengers claimed the vacated seats. At the last moment, she crossed the threshold.

There were no seats available, so she walked to a pole. Even though she held to it tightly, Talia still let out a gasp as the train lurched forward.

"Miss." A businessman tapped her shoulder. He indicated an empty seat. "Take mine."

Talia shook her head. "I'm fine."

He returned to his seat.

As the machine followed its track, Talia shut her eyes. Fear was a natural emotion. Her father had taught her that. It was not something to be ashamed of. But one could not allow it to rule. Fear was meant to be confronted and conquered.

Talia felt the floor shake. She heard the rail break. She felt the train plummet.

Her eyes flew open as the train stopped, and she was the first onto the platform. Her body quivered as her hands gripped the sides of a trashcan. She forgot her pride as she vomited.

Talia sat on the stairs leading to the platform for quite some time, shaken and humiliated. Former and would-be passengers were forced to step around her, and they did so without more than an annoyed glance. After two hours, someone approached her.

"It's getting dark. I don't think even you want to be sitting out here alone at night." She looked up to see Bruce Wayne. How long had he been there? How much had he seen? He gestured to his idling Lamborghini. "Let me give you a ride back to your hotel."


	25. Unworthy

_Unworthy_

**Summary- **In his search for a successor and son-in-law, Henri Ducard struggled to find someone worthy.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the character. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

Henri Ducard stood beside his daughter on an observation ledge above a training area of agents of the League of Shadows. A man below fought two opponents.

"What do you think of him?"

Talia considered the question. She knew the purpose. This young man, twenty-four and two years older than her, was her father's second try at choosing a man worthy of marrying her. The woman watched his lean muscles constrict and relax as his body bobbed and darted. She watched his left hand flex as he drew his sword with his right hand.

"Right," Talia said to her father. She watched as the man moved to the right. "Back." He stepped back. "High block, duck, left swipe." The sequence played out.

Henri shook his head. "I thought I'd trained that habit out of him."

"Unless he learns to keep his free hand still, he is an easy target in combat."

"He is strong, though. I can continue trying if you wish. Is he to your liking?"

"Is he your will?" his daughter replied.

Henri raised his hand. A man in black, one of the agents the youth was facing, saw the gesture. When Ra's Al Ghul lowered his hand, the combatant struck. His sword slammed into the young man's chest and came out his back.

From where she stood, Talia could see the crimson-stained blade clearly.


	26. Knight and Assassin

_Knight and Assassin_

**Summary- **Talia Ducard meets an opponent worthy of her.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the character. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

  
Talia Ducard frowned as she made her way through the streets of Gotham City. It was late— or early— after one in the morning. The only time to attend to such business, Talia felt.

The League agents peppered throughout Gotham had been invaluable, as had contacts her father had made. All in all, tracking down Sonny Lombardi had been simple.

For days, Talia had watched him. She had no love for the mafia, but she could respect a proper don. The position required tact, diplomacy, patience, strength, cunning, and discretion. She would never be able to justify killing a proper don. He would surround himself with friends and family as alibis, pass orders through a chain of command that honored silence above all else. A proper don could be suspected but never caught. Lombardi was not a proper don.

The man had no idea he'd been shadowed. He never guessed someone followed him for days. He had no idea that someone knew every crime he'd committed this past week. He'd been watched as he oversaw a shipment of drugs. His bribes of policemen had been tallied. The three call-girls he'd had over had been researched. He'd had three witnesses when he killed Luigi Maroni— his two bodyguards and his silent shadow.

No, Talia thought as she twisted twine in her hands. Like the last man to try and claim the crumbling empire of Carmine "The Roman" Falcone, Lombardi was unsuited for the post. The man before him, Salvatore Maroni, had turned rat. Lombardi was little more than a glorified enforcer. He knew the drug trade, had even been the head of the operation under Falcone, but he was not meant to be a don.

If the rumors were true and the Roman's oldest son, who vanished to Italy when faced with accusations of multiple felonies, was returning to Gotham City, the Italian mafia might survive. If Mario Falcone did not reappear, the Family would collapse in upon itself within the year.

While she knew the situation, Talia did not particularly care. One mafia family mattered little in the grand scheme of things. The Italians would fall now or later, on their own or with others when Gotham was finally razed. A decade or two, if it took that long, would not make them any more of a threat. What Talia cared about now was justice.

Lombardi had helped Falcone smuggle in drugs. He could connect the name of the League of Shadows to that distasteful enterprise. As Ra's Al Ghul— however temporary her claim to the title was— Talia knew she possessed the authority to order the man's death. She intended to use it.

Talia dropped to the ground from a fire escape. She landed silently and stole behind Lombardi as he strolled toward his car. Deep in Italian territory, he assumed he was safe.

Neither Lombardi or Talia saw another shadow swoop down from a rooftop across the street.

The woman acted quickly. She hooked the twine around Lombardi's throat and pulled. He stopped struggling a second before Talia was struck. The blow to her side made her stagged, and Lombardi fell to the ground in a heap. She moved on instinct, aiming a strike with the heel of her hand at her attacker's nose to disorient them before stepped back to evade a punch to the stomach.

The ache in her palm triggered her out of autopilot, and she looked at her opponent. Height and weight indicated a man, she thought. He wore black, a kind of armor. The cape whipped behind him, and it struck Talia as impractical. She smirked at his mask. It covered almost his full face, and two spikes extended on either side. Amusing as he looked, his skill was impressive. Not many had managed to surprise her.

"Please tell me you're not one of his bodyguards." Talia looked the man over. "I didn't think the mob was into... costumes."

"I'm not." The words weren't spoken. They were growled. His eyes narrowed, and everything about him suggested danger.

Talia would inwardly admit to being impressed. She hadn't expected Gotham to have something like this. "Who are you?"

"Your escort to the police."

Talia smirked wider. "A generous offer, but I've really got to decline."

He grabbed her arm. "I don't think so."

Talia twisted but couldn't break his grip. She tried to elbow his stomach but met armor. Going for her hair pin, to stab at likely places for a gap in the protection, would be too obvious, so Talia reached into her pocket. She threw a pinch of explosive powder in his eyes. The surprise loosened his grip, and she broke it entirely with a strike to his arm.

Free, Talia didn't stop to gloat. She threw another pinch of power, this time onto the ground, and used the flash to vanish into the shadows.


	27. Birth of an Assassin

_Birth of an Assassin_

**Summary- **There's a first time for everything.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the character. I merely dabble in the world.

**Author's note-** First off, I want to thank everyone who reviews this fic. I know I don't respond to them as much as I should, and I apologize for that. I read every one and really appreciate them. Second, thank you everyone who keeps reading. FFDN records hits and visitors, so I know roughly how many individuals read, even if they don't comment. Finally, I just wanted to let you all know that I have a change of pace in store starting on chapter 45. Hopefully you'll all stick around to see it.

* * *

Thirteen-year-old Talia Ducard smoothed her dress as the men argued. She looked at the ground, following the instructions Damien had given her.

"She's too old," the richly dressed man barked.

Damien, dressed in clothes suited for a pauper, shook his head. He spoke in broken English. "She's a good girl, follows orders."

The man regarded Talia with a leer. "That true?"

"Yes, sir," she stammered.

"I'll give her a try." He glanced at Damien. "Wait here. If I don't like her, my clients won't." He seized Talia by the arm and dragged her into a back room.

Girls stared at her. The oldest of them were possibly ten. Talia saw hunger, fear, and pain written on their faces. Littler ones clung to older ones at the sight of the man. One girl covered another's mouth before she could scream.

"Well," the man said.

"Sir?" Talia whispered.

"Your clothes. Off with them."

Talia bit her lip. "Won't you— help me with them?"

He smiled and approached.

The girl was faster than he was. She removed the ornamental hair pin from her hair and lunged. Its point ripped into his throat. She watched the wound bleed, felt the warm liquid hit her face, and heard the girls scream.

Damien entered. He looked at the body on the floor and clapped a hand on Talia's shoulder. "Your father will be impressed."

"What will happen to them?" Talia asked, indicating the girls even as Damien led her away.

"They will be taken care of."

Talia didn't realize that he didn't look at her as he spoke.


	28. Digging

_Digging_

**Summary- **Information can be gained through all sorts of means.

**Disclaimer-** The characters of _Batman Begins _and _The Dark Knight_ belong to Christopher Nolan, Jonathan Nolan, David Goyer, Bob Kane, and other associated with the creation of the world of Gotham. I do not own the character. I merely dabble in the world.

* * *

  
Talia Ducard looked out of place at Last Call. It as a less-than-classy bar, a frequent haunt of many an overworked police offer. Staff served alcohol and a few food items every hour of every day. Anyone on the force, active or retired, got half-priced food and drink. The eastern wall stood as a monument, displaying the photographs and badges of every cop killed in the course of duty. The patrons wore jeans and t-shirts or suits that seen better days. Unless they were helping in some sort of fundraiser, the likes of Bruce Wayne rarely made an appearance, and the tabloids had been quick to link the names of Bruce Wayne and Talia Ducard.

A man downed his fourth beer. Not only was it half-priced, but the lady had insisted on paying. He knew that look in her eye, and a grin spread across his features. She was bored, looking for a roll in the hay with someone more exciting— more dangerous— than a pretty-boy billionaire. She wanted a real man.

The first three beers had gone down easy with conversation. She was fascinated by him. She'd listened to his martial problems, exaggerated though they might have been, but he hadn't dwelt on that. He'd regaled her with his account of arrested Jonathan Crane not once but twice, his valiant efforts to save the poisoned Narrows, how he'd just missed being part of the security detail to protect Harvey Dent after his arrest. The mob, he'd assured the woman, would never have gotten near Dent on his watch.

"Last cop to die in that whole fiasco was Wuertz, poor bastard," he said as he drank. He'd told her about Commissioner Loeb and the attempt on the mayor as well as all the other havoc the Joker had caused. "Shot by the Bat. I say anyone who says Wuertz was dirty is full of shit."

He liked the way she smiled at that, all sympathy for a good cop maligned because it was easier. The car had been hijacked. That was Wuertz's story, and he believed it.

"The Bat?" she parroted in that hot accent of hers.

"The Batman," he said. Maybe if he gave her another story, she'd finally suggest they hit a motel. It wouldn't be the gentlemanly thing to do for him to ask her. "Thorn in the side of every cop in Gotham. Except Gordon." He shook his head. "Excuse me— Commissioner Gordon."

"What does this 'Batman' do?"

"Vigilante, runs around in a nutty costume. Used to just pound a few perps, deliver 'em to us. That was bad enough, making us look like idiots. Now? The psycho just kills 'em." He leaned back. "Shot Wuertz and a driver, left the passenger— big-time mob boss— dead too."

"That is very strange."

"Don't you worry, doll. I won't let him get a cute little thing like you." He thought he saw her frown. Modest type, he figured.

"I saw him." She tilted her head. "He was attempted to arrest a criminal. If he had— how do you say it?— escalated would he not just have killed them?"

"He's a loon," the officer announced. "Even Gordon's admitted it. We run into the Bat, we bring him in for murder."

Talia stood up. Her accent was far less noticeable. "Pardon me, it's getting late. I should go."

"C'mon, doll." He smiled at her. She didn't smile back.

"You should go home to your wife, Officer Kline."


End file.
